The Survivalist
by Coolbreeze48
Summary: Wren Mellark, the daughter of Katniss and Peeta Mellark, has been thrown into the 76th Hunger Games. Where the stakes are higher than ever. Where she's stuck with the choice; save her enemy, Flint Odair, or save her best friend, Roan Hawthorne.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hey guys! Thanks for checking out this story! I know there's been a lot of stories like this, but I hope you enjoy this just the same. This is my first fanfiction for The Hunger Games. So I hope you will like it! Some things might be mildly wrong, but it think I got it! Please tell me what you think!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything from The Hunger Games. **

I fill my canteen with the clear water sprinkling from the spring rocks above. I don't know whether it is clean or not, but I have no way of knowing. When my mother was in the games, the water wasn't clean. This makes me hesitate. It looks alright to me, but the eyes can trick, especially when you're dehydrated.

I've been trekking around this arena for two days, and only five cannons have sounded, meaning there are nineteen people left. Nineteen people still hunting me down. They knew me. They knew who my parents were…..who they are. Victors of the 74th and survivors of the 75th Hunger Games, and leaders of the rebellion.

My name is all that has buzzed through people since my birth. Wren Mellark. The girl whose mom was on fire, who started the uprising. Maybe that is why my name was picked - because they want to see if I am strong as my parents, if I can persevere through it all. I know I can't. Not possibly.

I've had countless nights of listening to my mother screaming through nightmares of this place, of my father grasping the nearest stronghold so he wouldn't collapse during one of his 'flashbacks'. I've had to learn about everything in school - why they had the Hunger Games and who was victor each year. Unfortunately, that involved hearing about my parents every lesson. About how they tried to commit suicide so they both could be free, so they didn't have to kill one another in the Games. About how that caused an uprising, rebellion, and thousands of peoples deaths.

I'm elated that my sister and her twin brother are too young to get their names thrown into the reaping bowl; My older brother, Nye, wasn't, and now is no doubt standing in our small living room in Victor's Village and watching me live. I can still hear his words ring through my ears when I was dragged into the Justice Building after the Reaping:"Fight for yourself, fight for nothing else, Wren! No matter who our parents are, you live through this! You hear me? Never let down! You know how to use a bow, and you know how to cut; Use those to your advantage."

I blink my dry grey eyes; even with the moistness in the air, nothing in my body seems hydrated. I'm still hesitating about whether I want to drink this water or not. Haymitch would probably tell me not to; he says the stakes are even higher this year than they ever were. I understand that. They weren't even supposed to have another Hunger Games ever, but now that we have a new president, she insists that it's mandatory. Right when everyone was settling down from the scare of the Quarter Quell, from the war my mother had to finish, their children had to be thrown back in here, to fight like never next person, and the last, to enter the room at the Justice Building was my mom. Katniss Mellark, formerly known as Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire. She was horrified, almost as much as I was; she always had a lingering sadness, from these Games no doubt. But in her deep grey eyes, which I inherited, I could see more than that sadness, and I knew it was only fear for me. She rushed to me and embraced me with a warm hug. My mother never hugged me; not often, anyway. It was always dad that did the acts of generosity. But with this hug, I could feel she didn't want to let go. So I hugged her back with as much force as she did me.

"Wren, I will just tell you what your father told me before the Games we fought in those years ago. He said he wished he could show the capital that they didn't own him. He wasn't a piece of their games; you're not either. You're stronger than that! You have a hunter and fighter's blood in you. I believe in you, and I trust that you will come home safe and sound. You are now the girl on fire! Show them that." Then she kissed my forehead and was guided out of the room.

I'd looked down into my hand and seen what she had placed in it while she was speaking. I'd smiled as I'd rolled the object around between my index finger and thumb. The pearl. The pearl my dad had given my mom in the Quarter Quell fifteen years ago, the only thing that was her stronghold through it all. That and the MockingJay pin, which she never let anyone touch, including my siblings and I. I honored that though, the pearl was good enough with me.

I look around. The immense trees crawl up at high as the eye can reach, and the leaves fall off as if it were autumn. The moss growing on the trees and rocks nearby tell me I'm going the right way. North, just as I meant to be , the sound of something snapping behind me makes me scramble to my feet, an arrow already set and waiting to be shot from my bow. A jabberjay flickers out of a tree ahead, and I follow it with the arrow. I sigh, and rest my arrow. Stupid birds.

"A little paranoid, aren't we, princess?"

I rush to point my next arrow at the source of the voice. My brain reels in fear as I recognize who it is.

"Flint! Don't do that, you idiot! I almost shot you!" I roar at him with a pricing look.

He brushes me off with a hand and saunters over to me. "You would've missed. Besides, I would have killed you by the time you even turned. You're too slow." He tells me.

I growl at him. "You're just lucky I didn't shoot."

He laughs and sits on the bank of the spring. He cups his hands and filters the water inside. He splashes some over his head and back. Then he lifts it to his lips, about to take a drink.

"Wait! Are you about to drink that?" I ask eyes peer over to me.

"Yes. Is that okay with you, princess?" My words are caught short. "How do you know it's not poisoned?" I reply sharply. "I mean, Haymitch did tell us to be aware of everything we intake. Because-"

"The stakes are higher than ever. Yes, I remember." He cuts in.

Flint was always somewhat irksome. Ever since he and his mom moved in next door to us in the Victors' Village, he's always been around me. My dad tells me that his dad, Finnick Odair, and his wife, Annie, were very close to my mom and him. He even said that Finnick helped them win the Quarter Quell, and then died during the rebellion a little while later. From what Flint has told me about his father, he gets a lot of traits from him. The bronze hair, the tan skin, those remarkable green eyes that hold all of his stories. He and his father both are remarkable looking, which was one of the things that annoyed me. Not to mention he should have never even been in our District. He and his mom should have stayed in District 4, where they originated, but my mom insisted that they move to Twelve so that her and my dad could 'keep an eye' on them. I've known him for at least seven years. Seven long years. He was one of the last people I wanted to be stuck with in the arena, but of course Effie had to pick his name from the bowl right after takes a sip anyway and swishes it around in his mouth for a moment before gulping it down. "It's safe." He tells me.I open my mouth to question him, but he cuts me short. "Because I'm from 4, remember? Where everything is covered by water. I was there for eleven years. I practically lived in the water. I would know if it were contaminated or not." He always did that - finished my sentences or knew what I was about to say, before I'd even thought about it myself. Reason number three that he came off as annoying to me. Not to mention he should have never even been in our District. He and his mom should have stayed in District Four, where they originated, but my mom insisted that they move to Twelve so that her and my dad could 'keep an eye' on them. I've known him for at least seven years. Seven long years. He was one of the last people I wanted to be stuck with in the arena, but of course Effie had to pick his name from the bowl right after mine.

He takes a sip anyway and swishes it around in his mouth for a moment before gulping it down. "It's safe." He tells me.

I open my mouth to question him, but he cuts me short. "Because I'm from Four, remember? Where everything is covered by water. I was there for eleven years. I practically lived in the water. I would know if it were contaminated or not." He answers.

He always did that - finished my sentences or knew what I was about to say, before I'd even thought about it myself. Reason number three that he came off as annoying to me.

I look down to my canteen in my left hand. My body was withered from its lack of water. I needed to trust Flint. I screwed off the top and gulped it down, slowly at first, then faster as my body begged for more. As Flint watches me, he snickers and shakes his head. I lower my canteen and wipe my lips with my sleeve.

"What?" I ask.

"Good thing I wasn't lying," He whispers. "Or you'd be dead."

I narrow my eyes at him. "Aren't you supposed to be with the Careers right now?"

He adjusts the pack on his back. It looked full, heavy. My mind yelled at me to snatch it from him and run, but I refused, no matter how large the urge.

"I'm about to go back to them. Just had to check and see if you had died yet. Surprisingly you haven't. Maybe you'll win this thing after all," He says.

My heart becomes warm with his last words. Yeah, maybe I will! He smiles at me and walks into the dense forest. No matter how much he did annoy me, I didn't like the fact he was with the Careers. He could get himself easily killed that way. But I guess that he has a plan, maybe.

No matter what, this is the Hunger Games…each tribute has a chance to die.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hello again! Thanks for reviewing and favoriting! Tell me what you think of this next installment!**

Chapter 2.

I awaken by the sound of another cannon firing. I was more than startled, I almost fell out of the tree. An image of the girl Sam, from District 9 filled the sky. Than another cannon shot and the image of a boy from 10 flashed up. Now there was only seventeen. I estimated it was about five in the morning. Meaning someone is out there hunting down kids who are asleep, vulnerable, helpless. I tightened the rope around my waist and gulped down my fear. I learned from my mom that this was the best and safest way to sleep in the arena. Or even just in the forest. Up in a tall tree with a rope around your waist. I didn't find a rope in the pack I grabbed at the Cornucopia, only a cup, a knife, some wood and a blanket. Good survival items. So I took some ropes I found hanging from the trees and strung them around me.

This arena was very complex, like the 74th Hunger Games, there was thick and unmingled forest, but their was also jungle like in the Quarter Quell. Along with the animals and plants. This place was alive during the day and night. I rest my head on the trunk of the tree and gaze at the sky above. I wondered if Flint's face will be the next image up there. The next thing haunting me in this place. I did hope he would be safe. He deserved that.

"You alright?" The voice quietly asked next to me.

I peer over to Roan sitting on the branch next to me. His deep eyes shine in the midnight light.

"Yes, the cannons just startled me some." I tell him.

Roan Hawthorne, my best friend since I was born, the son of Gale Hawthorne. The only reason I'm as strong as I am. His name was picked as well. They picked three names from each District this year. Since there's only eight existing now. The only way to get twenty four tributes was to draw three from each. So we had three chosen from, twelve, ten, nine, seven, five, three, two and one. He was my buddy back in twelve. He would protect me from everything I couldn't protect myself from. He would watch over me when I needed someone. He was my stronghold. He _is_ my stronghold.

He has three other siblings like I do, and we both knew how hard it was to handle them sometimes. So we would occasionally cross the old fence of twelve and hang out in the woods. Like our parents use to. We didn't hunt though. Just ate wild berries and roots, caught fish and admired the wildlife. Don't get me wrong, if both him or I wanted we could kill in a millisecond. He was amazing at snares like his dad was, but he also learned how to make arrowheads out of nothing at all. Also how to throw knives, as he taught me. I was lucky to have him around. But not so lucky here. If he was here that means one of us will have to be killed for the other to survive. Including Flint. I wouldn't mind giving up my life for Roan though. He has a lot more to give a wife and a family than I do.

He adjusts himself and sighs. "I wish you didn't half to be here,"

A small laugh escapes my lips, even though I don't understand why…nothing was funny.

"I wish we both didn't half to be here." I reason.

It was quiet after my reply. I didn't know if he had dozed off, he did tell me he had a stressful day. All of us did. We are fighting for our lives after all.

"I explored the Careers hideout today," He suddenly says.

Guess he wasn't asleep. I looked over to him, expecting him to say more…but nothing came. "And? What did you find?" I asked him.

I squared my shoulders and my back ached. The tree wasn't doing good for my spine.

He blinks and closes his eyes. "They have a camp right in the middle of the arena. Beside the mountain." He reports. "They are out in the dead open. If you wanted to you could shoot them plain sight. They have six in their group. Grove from one is the leader I assume. Than its Isis and Ridly the twins from one as well. They guard the camp when Grove and the others are hunting. Fawn from seven and Ezra from ten. And of course that awkward little one Flint, from our District. That's who makes up the Careers this year."

I think this over in my head, it sounds like a pretty tough pack they got there.

"Tomorrow I'm going to see if I can distract Isis and Ridly and nab some of their apple and potato sacks. Their huge! Enough to feed us for a few days." He adds in.

I didn't like this, him wandering to the hideout without anyone else. That was way to dangerous. My stomach yells at me though, the taught of warm apples and mashed potatoes sounds marvelous right now. That's when I remember I hadn't had anything for dinner. A Career scared me up this tree and that was were I stayed. I wanted to tell him not to go, we could find food here after all our parents practically lived in the woods. We were taught what was good to eat and what wasn't. But then I'm torn by the amazing thought of Apple pie.

"I want some cookies," I mutter.

He snickers at me. "That was quite random. You're a weird little one Arty."

I smiled at him.

He has called me Arty for a long time, maybe since I was three. Artemis was a Goddess. Of hunting, the wilderness and wild animals. So of course my parents had to give me that as a name. I actually liked it, it was different and I enjoyed being referred to as different. The first time Flint ever heard my real name was at the Reaping. "Artemis Mellark." Effie called out. And he frowned and explored the crowd. Not knowing it was me. I'll never forget his face when I walked onto the podium though. It was almost petrified. Wide eyes with pupils dilated, hard swallows, shifty stance. I wasn't sure if he was scared to be put into the Games with me, or just scared to have me put in them in general. I guess I'll never know.

My thoughts were disrupted by an eerie beeping sound. I squint my eyes and look around. The sound was coming from my right. By the echo it was making I could tell it was coming towards us. My eyes shift over to Roan, who was now sitting up and looking in the same direction.

"What is it?" I ask him quietly.

In the dull light of the morning I could see him shrug. The sound was coming closer until I could see it. It floated unsteadily past the trees and roved over to us. A parachute. Little and silver, landed in my hands.

Roan lifts an eyebrow. "I guess we have a few sponsors." I could hear the tinge of happiness in his voice.

I almost laugh in giddiness as I open the little sphere. Inside lay a tin and a small piece of paper reading, "You need to be more exciting. The sponsors are dying here! Give them something to make their hearts race. After all you are the little MockingJay. Just stay alive, Haymitch.".

I shake my head, _Like that's going to happen_.

I open the tin and find my nose bursting with the lush scent of fresh - "Cookies!" I almost scream.

I take one out and sniff it. "My dads cookies!"

Their so soft they almost dissolve in my fingers. "Really? Cookies? Why couldn't you ask for like, a five coarse meal or something?" Roan asks me snidely.

I laugh and hand him a cookie with blue frosting. He takes it without delay. My mouth is tripping over my tongue as I raise the cookie to it. But I notice something before my tongue decapitates it.

"Wait!" I call to Roan.

His brow furrows. "Why?"

I take the rest of the cookies out of the tin and place them on my lap. I take the one from Roan.

"Each cookie had a letter on it," I tell him. "It's a message of some sort. From my dad, this is his handwriting."

Roan doesn't question anymore and leans in to match me sort out the cookies. I go through what he might be telling me, what might be so important that he needs to send me it. Once I piece them all together I stare at the word. Why would he send me this? Maybe this is my weakness. Because the word staring back at me, was Jabberjay.

**Please leave me some feedback!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Tell me what you think! Thanks for reading!**

"Jabberjay?" I say aloud.

I shift my eyes over to Roan.

His lips press into a line. "I don't know."

_But you know everything. _I think to myself.

I pass him his cookie back and he eats it in one quick movement. I eat one as well the flavors combined with sweetness fills me with happiness.

"Thanks dad." I mumble and stuff the rest of the tin into my pack.

Roan dusts off his hands and unties himself. He lets the vines drop to the earth below.

"It's about time to get going," He says.

I peer over to him. "Can I go with you today?"

"If you want." He simply answers.

We crawl down the tree and back out into the open. The birds; including the Jabberjays, begin their morning warble. The minutes pass like hours, I still trek behind Roan. Watching him as he climbs the torturous hills and thick bushes of the arena. I'm glad today I could fallow him. I didn't quite know where we were going, but I trusted him.

About midmorning we stopped to find breakfast. The stream -beginning at one end of the arena and ending at the other- lay next to us. I fill my canteen again and sip on the crisp water as I look around for any edible plants. Meanwhile he finds a small rock beside the bank, and readily began swiping it on the corner of another rock. I find a long stock that looks like Bugleweed. I pull on its stem and uproot the tubers. Their not large considering the changing weather here, but fine enough. I rinse them out in the water or the stream and cut them up with my knife. I'm lucky and spot another thing we can use. I rip it out if the bank and smell it. Miner's Lettuce. A delicacy were we live, considering our District. I take its leaves and tear them off. Roan meets me seconds later and sits beside me.

"Um, Miner's Lettuce! Didn't know they would have this here." He says, examining a leaf.

I smile and begin eating. Knowing that this is only a base for breakfast, I'll most likely get hungry very soon after eating this. I knew also, that how big Roan was…he would burn through his in a matter of hours. We needed something more substantial. It never ceased to amaze me how much larger Roan gets every year. His muscles in his arms were now about as wide as my palm - my brother Nye always says I have man hands. So my palm is very large for a sixteen year old girl - .

And the thickness of his legs measured with the rest of his body. Large. If I had seen him from afar I would no doubt be afraid of him. But on the inside, he was nothing but a groosling.

I listen to the birds ringing around us. I could easy shoot one of them. If they would stand still! I stand and sling my bow and quiver over my shoulder. I place three arrows in the quiver and begin up the stream.

"Where are you going Arty?" Roan calls after me.

I don't answer and continue on. He will fallow me if he knows I'm going into the dangerous woods. So I don't tell him.

I rove into the dense forest, until I was fully immersed in the shadows of the trees. I listen to the creatures around me. With my arrow set, I was ready to make a quick kill when needed. I bluebird flutters past me and I shoot it swiftly. Next was a squirrel climbing up a nearby tree and I nab a nest of pigeon eggs in a bush next to me. I was happy with my plunder until an odd noise catches me. I look overhead to find a spear wielding towards me. It spins in the air with a whistling sound. I grab my goods and sprint away from it. It lands on the grass with a _thud_. A girl with short red hair rushes over to it and spies me out. She then tosses it in my direction again. I run behind a tree as it gets caught in its wood. I take a breath, that was a close one. I run as fast as can to Roan he'll save me! I hear the whistling sound of the spear again, this time close. I turn my head and it slices past my shoulder. Cutting it as it does. I let out a small yelp of pain as I continue sprinting.

"Give me that!" I hear her scream.

I look down to the goods I had in my arms. She must want these. With the spear ahead of me, she had nothing to hurt me with. I quickly drop my goods and string an arrow. I turn. I look around in panic. There was nothing. She was gone. I spin around once, she was no where to be found. But the Jabberjays and birds still lay quiet, so I suspect she is around her somewhere. I feel a warmth slithering down my chest. I peer quickly to my shoulder, the cut was unfortunately deep and seeping with blood.

I hear a scream beside me and before I could turn the girl leapt onto me. Causing my bow to fly to the ground. I fall on my back with her directly atop of me. Her knees lock to my hips and she lifts a rock above my head. I quickly grab her arms and hold her back. She was stronger than I imagined. My arms billow, shake from her force.

I grunt, this is not how I'm going to die!

I take a hand and knock the rock from her, meanwhile hitting her in the face with it. She falls off me and I scramble to my feet. I reach for my arrow and sling it quickly. I point it at her. She breathes heavy breaths as blood pours from her nose. She lifts her hands, as if to surrender.

"Don't kill me!" She begs.

I frown at her. "Why shouldn't I? You just tried to murder me!"

She swallows and smiles. "I just really need some food! You understand right?"

I shake my head. "I do,"

She lets out some nervous puffs of air I can best describe as a laugh. "Than you won't kill me! Right?" She asks.

I furrow my brow at her. "Wrong," I answer and shoot the arrow.

It was a clean shot to the head. She died quickly. I walk to her and examine her. She had to be about my age. Maybe a bit younger. About fourteen. Her bright red hair cut into a bob around her tight cheeks. I take the jacket she was wearing from her and tied it around my waist. I also extracted the arrow and slide it back into the quiver. I pick up my goods and walk back to Roan. As the first cannon fires that was caused by me.

**How are you liking it so far? Please feel free to tell me! Review and favorite if you like. **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Tell me what you think! I would love some reviews! **

Chapter 4

When I get back into Roan's line of sight he stumbles to his feet.

"What happened to you?" He horrifyingly asks me.

I lay the goods on a rock beside him and look at my shoulder.

"A girl from nine tried to take the food. I had to fight her off. She got my shoulder a bit with the spear she had." I report.

I take a seat on the dirt to catch a breath. He kneels beside me and examines my wound.

"You need to rinse it out and stop the bleeding." He tells me. "Go into the stream and wash off."

I pivot my head to him and look into his eyes. If he was scared for me I couldn't tell. His features were always so hard to read. But the brother inside him is coming out, and if I don't take care of myself…he'll do it for me.

I stand and take off my tunic. I then take off my dark green tee-shirt and meander into the cold water. I wince as the water filled my gash. The red liquid stained the water quickly. I splashed it a few times and got out. I sat in the same spot as I was in before and Roan looks at me, hands on hips. It was quite awkward having only my top half covered by a bra when I was around him. But he didn't seem to care. He picks up his pack and looks inside. He tugs out a white long-sleeved shirt and quickly rips off the sleeve. He wraps it tightly around my shoulder and knots it under my armpit. The fabric felt like needles in my fresh wound. I tried to hid the fact that I wanted to scream in pain, I bite my lip instead.

"You're in no condition to be going to the Careers camp with me. I'll half to go alone. Maybe they have some ointment or medicine we can use to heal you." He says.

I shake my head. "You're not going without me, and that's final."

His brow furrows but I hold my ground. "You're a hard head Arty." He smiles.

I smile back and put on my tee-shirt. We cook up the goods in a small fire we kindled. Even though the meat wasn't much, considering it was only a bird and small rodent. We ate it and were happy we got something more substantial.

Once we finish we extinguish the fire and collect our supplies. I throw my bow and quiver over my right shoulder and hold my pack in my hands. Roan looked behind him.

"Here," He said and took my pack from me.

He slung it over his shoulder and began our journey. The walk was about three hours long, though the thick brush of the arena. We started to enter the jungle part when a odd feeling came over me.

I stop. "I don't want to go much farther," I tell Roan, who is a little bit ahead of me.

"Why? We are almost there." He yells back.

I watch the trees ahead of us, they give off an eerie quiet. Their leaves don't move with the slight breeze, this makes me uneasy. I stay where I am, my heart starts beating.

"Roan please, just stop for a sec!" I plead.

He does but turns and gives me a face. "What's gotten into you?" He inquires.

I grab my canteen and take a hardy sip, the gash in my shoulder is still bleeding pretty badly, causing me to get dehydrated even faster then I was already. He jumps over a fallen tree trunk, which has grown thick moss on it. Then he walks to me.

His eyes lay soft on me as he looks at my shoulder, he examines it and shakes his head.

"We need to get you some medicine quickly," He whispers.

He then lifts his hand and touches my pale cheek, I recoil quickly, forgetting that its Roan, and he would never hurt me. He wipes his thick thumb on me skin and sighs.

"You have a cold sweat too."

The pity in his voice puts me even more on edge.

"I'll be fine," I quickly say. "I've been in worse situations."

This makes him chuckle, but it wipes away quickly and the worry smears back over his features.

Suddenly the trees around us starts to shutter, but the wind hasn't picked up any. A thousand things rush through my head, what are the game makers doing now?

More fireballs?

A random sandstorm?

How about killer bunnies?

Roan looks ahead of me, over my dark dirty blonde hair. And I get a glimpse of his eyes widening in fear, as a orange monkey jumps onto his broad chest and causes him to fall to the hard ground.

I let out a gasp as I'm so caught off guard.

Suddenly a sharp pain slices into my back and a force causes me to stumble forward. My mind scream at me, _save Roan!_ But then it tells me to rip this creature off me and run.

I spin around quickly causing the monkey to fall off me. Its hands have two inch, razor sharp nails, which drip with my blood. Its long jagged teeth are smeared with a red tint, from all the nice meat its had recently I assume. It sneers at me and tries to lung at me again. I dodge it and attempt to get a arrow out of the quiver before another unexpectedly appears from my left. I shoot him before he can do any damage.

I turn around and see that Roan has already handled the first monkey that jumped at him, now there's three more caging him in next to a tree. Growls and screams fill the air above of us. I look up slowly and find why all the trees where silent. Twenty, maybe thirty monkeys lay in each tree surrounding us. They sit in wait, until the monkeys on the ground have finished us. I exchange a horrified look to Roan, this would be one of those situations I was talking about.

We are doomed.

**(Dramatic isn't it? It took me awhile to decide what I was going to make happen here. But it just came to me and I'm kind of happy with it! Please stick in there with me!)**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Yet another installment of The Survivalist! Hope you enjoy! Please tell me what you think! I would enjoy that ****J**

Chapter 5

I rip the arrow from the dead monkey readily and shoot it at one of the monkeys surrounding Roan. This causes them all to freak and start jumping at us. Quickly I'm covered with at least five, biting and stretching at my open flesh. I protect my neck as it seemed they were aiming for that the most. I watch as monkeys jump onto Roan causing him to slam into the mossy tree behind him. My heart screamed to him, but it also screamed at me. I took no notice of the voice for myself, my heart only cared for Roan right now.

With all my strength I started ripping them off me, throwing them wherever I could manage. I readied an arrow and paused as I noticed I had to be extremely careful. If I miss by an inch, the arrowhead will burrow its way into Roan, and I'll be the one to have fired his cannon. I had to take my chances. But the monkeys were shifting around so swiftly, I couldn't get a straight aim. I closed one of my eyes to get a straight shot, and trusting my aim, I shot the arrow.

It dug into a monkeys back and he fell to the ground with no delay. I couldn't help but sigh in relief, I did it! My shoulder aches in searing pain. It rushes down my spine and causes me to feel cold inside. I have to ignore it as I began readying another arrow. I find one of the monkeys I threw from me earlier, rushes to my leg and shows me his fangs. I try to shake him off but he keeps a tight hold. I feel a sharp pain as the tips of his teeth start to tunnel into my skin. I look to the side and find a rock, and I quickly smash the monkeys head with it. I find that some of the monkeys around us have turned their attraction to the dead monkeys. They gnaw on them, not paying us a mind.

I run to Roan and begin pulling the primates off of him, one by one. Meanwhile slicing their necks with my knife. I throw them into a pile on the ground, and the other monkeys rush to that. I grab Roan's hand tightly and pull him with me. As we run I hear a scream from behind. It wasn't a monkey, it was a person. Beth from Two is beginning to get surrounded by the animals now. She seemed ready though. With an ax in her hand, she wields it and chops through the monkeys without a problem. I didn't have time to watch her as we approached the Careers camp. With the camp in eyesight _and_ the monkeys, we diverted to the south and hid behind a thick tree. Roan stumbles to the ground and gasps for air, as well as I. I examine him, he has a few cuts and scraps but seemed fine. After taking a gulp of water, I hand my canteen to him and he takes it without delay. While he finishes off the rest I lay my back on the tree trunk and try to catch my breath. This whole day has been filled, and its not even noon yet.

"Are…" Roan huffs. "Are you okay, Wren?"

My whole body ached, stung, seared. I look down to my leg and find only mild bite marks dripping lightly with blood. My back stung as well, but I knew it wasn't bad. Well, not at least as bad as my shoulder, which now was completely numb. I estimated that wasn't a good thing.

Roan stands and peeps his head around the trunk of the large redwood tree.

"The Careers only have Ridly watching the camp today, good for us right?" He sarcastically asks.

Obviously he doesn't notice I'm dying right now!

"I told you it was a bad idea to go in there!" I growl at him.

This catches him off guard and his bright green eyes rush to me. "Are you mad? I told you not to come," He justifies.

I shake my head. "Roan you would have been dead if I wasn't there to help you."

He frowns at me, clearly not enjoying my harsh attitude. But he seems to ignore that when he notices the lack of color in my lips and skin.

"I need to check the Careers camp for some medicine for you. So you stay here and wait," He instructs.

I want to protest but he cuts me off with a look. "I'll be fine Arty. Please, just trust me."

I keep his trusting look for a moment, before nodding. He smiles and quickly kisses me on the cheek and rushes off with my arrows and bow. My cheek burns with the linger of his lips. That was the first time his lips ever made contact with my skin. It was the only happy spot on my body right now. I get on my hands and knees and craw to the corner of the tree, but when my eyes roll around it, Roan is nowhere to be seen. Fear automatically enters my body as my eyes search everywhere for where he might be. But nothing is found. Ridly from District One, marches around with a face of stone.

One thing about him was he is awfully large for a fifteen year old. He's about five foot five, with tan yellow skin, such of Flint's. But his features lay dark, unsteady. He won over the crowd during the interviews at the Capital. With him being from one, they all look stunning there to begin with. Not to mention he's perfectly built and great at mostly everything. He had an advantage over all of us by far.

Caesar Flickerman, the man who has hosted the interviews for more than forty years, was overjoyed to talk to each tribute. This year he wore a bright pink wig, and the same caked on white makeup. He seemed to show a keen sense of joy in Ridly, and his twin sister Isis, who came out with Ridly because their mentor insisted it would be 'cute!' and that 'the Capital wouldn't be able to resist their looking alike in beautiful ways.' Ridly told the crowd some jokes and Isis drew pictures to go along with her brothers ridiculous puns. Original right?

~ I sharply watch as Ridly takes a seat on a rock next to his small mountain of goods. It wasn't as big as it was when my parents were in the games, but it was sufficient. My eye catches a glimpse of Roan, he's sneaking around their nicely handmade tents on the edges of the camp. I couldn't help but feel this wasn't good either, something had to happen to make this turn out bad. He crouches, then swiftly loads an arrow and points it at Ridly. With one eye shut, he lets it fly and it sticks a cardboard box in its side. The small prick sound it made while slamming into the box caught Ridly's attention. His face pivots over to Roan and catches his eye. At this split second, my heart stops. I didn't know whether Roan meant to hit the box or not. But it may be a cause if his death now. Ridly quickly stands and sprints for his club that is resting on the side of the plunder. Roan stands as well and pulls out the knife from his back pocket. At once the men are charging at each other. Ridly jumps at Roan, just as the monkeys had done earlier. Roan is quick at grabbing his arms and bracing for the impact as his body's thrown to the ground. Ridly tries to free his arms so he can use the club, but Roan has a tight grip on him. With them both stuck, Ridly begins whistling. Not a casual whistling a melody whistle. But a high-pitched frantic whistle that can be heard though the whole arena . He stops to catch a breath then begins whistling again. It almost seems louder this time around. Roan clamped his eyes shut in pain as the sound pierces him. He gets annoyed quickly and, with everything inside him, he knocks the club from the boys hand and pined him to the dirt below. The boy is still whistling, his face is turning red from his strenuous work.

"Shut up!" Roan growls, slamming his hand over Ridly's mouth.

Ridly, in return, bites his fingers causing Roan to rumble in frustration. Ridly moans as he tries to fight off the lug that is Roan.

"Stop fighting and just let me have some stuff!" Roan tells him.

Ridly laughs at him and continues struggling. Suddenly Ridly coughs a few times and spit's a wad of goo into Roan's eyes. Roan stumbles back quickly giving Ridly just enough time to grab Roan's knife from his free hand and slicing into his leg. Roan yelps in, what seemed like, excruciating pain. Ridly then rushes to his feet and hops atop Roan. He holds the knife above him when Roan grasps his arms and holds him back. But the strength of Ridly catches Roan off guard as the knife begins to slowly lower to Roan's perfect jaw line. I want to get up, I want to scream. I instinctively go to grab my arrows and bow, but they are at the battle sight with Roan. My breaths begin to rasp, as I find I have no way to save Roan.

That's when the cannon fires.

And my heart stops.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: I don't really know how I feel about this chapter. Tell me what you think! Thanks again for the favorites and alerts!**

Chapter 6

My breaths have escaped me, yet my heart isn't strong enough to look back and see who's cannon that was. I squeeze my eyes shut, and bite my lip.

_Look! _My brain screams, and now by body responds and peeks around the tree bole.

A body is caught in a exquisitely made fishing net. He lay there limp, nothing living inside him. But a golden rod stuck in the back of his head. I notice the light blonde hair and breathe a sight of relief. It's not Roan. But where did the net come from? Roan stumbles up and saunters over to Ridly's buried body. His face is rock solid, gruff, vivid madness fills him.

"Why aren't you whistling now?" Roan sourly asks.

"Just get what you need and leave," A voice demands.

My eyes search the air and they lead to Flint, who is standing next to a tree, a perfectly woven net slung over one shoulder, and a sward in the other hand. Roan obeys Flint and rushes to the mountain, he grabs a bushel of apples, potatoes, a orange pack and my quiver and bow.

He starts towards me.

Flint immerges from the dusk of the trees. He exchanges a look with Roan, their faces are so hard to read.

"I just saved your life. Hope you notice that." Flint reminds Roan. His voice is almost dark.

Roan turns to Flint, "You saved your own life," He nods at Ridly and marches away.

He picks me up swiftly and throws me over his shoulder, without a single care it seems.

About thirty minutes later, when he knows we are far enough away from everything, he places me down. My head spins, it's warm and foggy. I can't see where I am and my heart rate is over the average. With my shoulder still slightly oozing, and my leg now rushing with pain, nothing seems worse then this right now.

Roan opens the pack and searches the insides. He pulls out a frying pan, pair of scissors, a flask and a can of creamy substance.

"What's this?" He asks himself, with a lifted eyebrow.

My heart jumps a bit, I'm ready to feel better! Maybe this will help! But once he sniffs it and dips his finger inside it, I knew it wasn't anything that would help me.

"Cottage cheese," He tells me, his face filled with dismay. "Come on Haymitch! She's dying!" He suddenly screams.

He stands and throws the can at the ground. He marches around, pacing. He wipes his hands though his dark hair and sits on the ground hard.

"I'm sorry Wren." He mumbles.

"Why?"

"I can't help you." His voice is almost chocked up.

I shake my head and watch at the trees shuffle above me. I can't speak, my voice feels as if it's stolen from me every time I try.

"It's…" I clear my throat. "Alright."

He looks up at me, his bright hazel eyes glaze over with worry.

"Did I ever tell you that I loved just…" He pauses to pull up his knees and tuck them close to him. "I loved just being with you."

My eyes meet his for a moment, he was sincere. "That old tree house we had in the back yard, in that single tree that bloomed in the spring. We swung on the swing attached on the thick branch in the back. We told stories of when we would grow up and be warriors just like our parents. Do you remember that?"

I nod, since that's the only thing it seems that I'm capable right now.

He smiles, but his eyes still watch the ground. The look over his face makes me ache, it's almost a longing. A longing for something that is far from him. His eyes even seem distant, not strong and forceful as they usually do. He has clearly given up on me.

But I refuse! I'm not going to die like this! With my legs weak as a newborns, I was unable to stand at all. But I extend my hands one after another and start to crawl across the moist forest floor. I scratch at the wet soil, it sucks at my hands as I sink into it. Once I reach Roan I lean against the tree and place my head on his broad shoulder.

"The letter Haymitch sent me…" I start. "In the parachute. It said I needed to be more exciting. I tried Roan," I whimper. It is pathetic to hear myself whine, but the pain in my entire body seeps from my words.

"You're d-" He stops before he says the word. He can't.

"Dying, yes I know."

"And that isn't exciting enough?" His words linger.

I laugh slightly, "Of course it is, but he wants more…_they_ want more."

I lean against him some as I reach into my pant pocket and pull out the purl. I spin it around in my fingers for a moment and grab his hand. Its so warm, under my lifeless fingers. I place the purl in his palm and shut his fingers over it. He doesn't ask anything, just stare at the sphere in his hand.

"I'm the little MockingJay. I'm a survivor." I mumble so low I can barley hear myself.

A wind picks up through the trees and it sounds like a whisper. _What was that?_ It calls. Almost as if Haymitch was calling to me. I grumble and repeat myself.

"I'm the little MockingJay. I'm a survivor." This time I say it normally. Roan turns his face to me, his features showing a question mark. My heart starts to beat, slamming into me. "I'm the little MockingJay! I'm a survivor!" I almost yell now. At that the winds slow and everything calms. I whisper it once again before closing my eyes and resting my head back on Roan's shoulder.

The sound that fallows is eerie, not like a muttation, or a Jabberjay, not like a scream, or a whimper. This…is complete silence. Almost the calm before the storm. And it was exactly that, because right as I began loosing myself…a great wind gushes upon us almost pushing me over. Roan looks above is, a flock of birds soar though the trees ahead. They call and squeak to one another. They all head one direction. Away from something. A loud strike of thunder rumbles the ground around us. And as the lighting begins the clouds begin to form an odd shape a while ahead of us. A shape that reaches to the ground, a funnel.

This is a tornado.


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hey guys! It's been a pretty busy week for me so I haven't got the time to post anything lately. Sorry :o This is a very short chapter, but the next will be a normal length. Thanks for the reviews and favorites again! It means a lot. I'm going to edit a few things around at the beginning to make this story more accurate to the actual Hunger Games.**

Chapter 7

Roan sucks a sharp breath into his lungs; this event has caught him off guard. He rushes to his feet and grabs our supplies. He throws my bow and quiver over his right shoulder, than my pack, the pack he stole from the Careers and the apples. He is about to run, but notices I'm unable to move.

His eyes are hesitant. Leave me and keep the goods, or grab me and suffer with the goods. He makes his choice quickly. He drops everything quickly and runs to me. Swiftly, he scoops me up and rushes away from the gusting wind. Leaves thrash around and rush across us - some with jagged edges - so as they graze past they slice our arms. I watch as his face lay stuck on the destination ahead. His jaw is clenched, showing off his perfect jaw line. His face is dirty, glazed over with sweat and mud. He takes some harsh, tired breaths, but otherwise he keeps running.

I feel bad, I'm holding him back. I need to tell him this. But I know he won't listen. He's to stubborn. As we dash away, a leaf brushes across his cheek, cutting him slightly. He blinks but keeps jogging. His long blond eyelashes graze the bottom of his full eyebrows, making his eyes look full, set, determined.

It feels as if he has been running for a while, but in reality its only been minutes. His eyes shoot over to a trench in the wet ground. Almost a ditch. The whistle of the Tornado is lingering behind us, too close. As he reaches the trench, he stops to look back, as do I. You can hear the whip of trees as they crumble over from the momentous wind. He kneels down and rests me in the pit of the trench. Which is only about four feet deep. Without hesitation, he jumps overtop of me. His arms stretch to either side of the walls and he holds to them tightly. His face is inches from mine, but that isn't what he seems to care about. He whispers something over the wind, I can't make is out, but it's short, sweet.

"Lay still. It's okay." He tells me. And at this I do so.

I watch as his locks of brown hair whip around with the harsh air, but his eyes stay glued to mine. His chest pushed against mine, he's trying to breath calm to calm me.

He was so much stronger than I. He could go many places. Do many things. I hope he'd survive. I pray upon that.

I can't hold myself back, no fight anymore. I let myself go. And as I do, the last thing I see is his hazel eyes, filled with worry.

Before I blackout.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: First of all I want to say I am sorry for taking sooo long in posting this next chapter! I have been getting a Beta reader and she has been editing my work. She's doing a great job and I thank her for it! Here's chapter eight. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!**

Chapter 8

I open my eyes to hear an odd clicking sound like a woodpecker's rattle. It's insistent, irritating. When my eyes peel open I find a beautiful bird perched on the toe of my thick brown boots. I know this creature. My family has been too familiar with it. The creature is a Jabberjay.

I try shaking my foot back and forth, but it stays firm. For some unknown reason, my breaths become rapid. Worry. Fear. The bird's eyes scan over, its pupils dilating when its eyes meet mine. I glare at it and shoo it off with a hand, but it digs its talons deeper into the leather.

"Go away." I whisper.

"Go away." It echoes.

I scowl at it and brush my hand over its thick black feathers.

"Go away." I say again, my voice becoming more stern.

This time it only watches me. Steadily. Fearlessly, unlike me. My breaths overtake me and wrap me in a shell of fear. I don't understand why I am afraid of this Jabberjay. I never was afraid of them before. Maybe that's why my dad sent me those cookies. A message only I can solve.

"Death," It says.

I blink at it and tilt my head in question.

Its voice is raspy as it repeats. "Death!" This time it's almost a yell.

I try to stumble to my feet but my arms are too weak to make any movement. I try to shoo the bird away again, but this time it cranes its head and snaps onto one of my fingers. I yelp in unexpected pain and growl at it. Stupid bird.

It keeps repeating itself, over and over, with the same worn out voice. I watch it closely as its talons dig into my boot and pierce my toes.

"Shut up!" I demand.

"Death...death!" It continues.

I look around me to find something to knock this stupid creature off me, but the only thing surrounding me is a familiar berry. I recoil as I notice my skin is smeared with the deadly fruits nectar.

"Nightlock!" My body squeals before I can withdraw the words.

"Nightlock is death, death it good!" the Jabberjay suddenly mutters.

My heartbeat slams into my chest, so fast I can feel it moving up my throat.

"Death is good! Wren is dying. Wren is dying. No one will save her. Wren is dying, Wren is dying. Oh, what a tragedy."

My eyes meet its again, and for a second those eyes seem like ones I have witnessed before. They seem too familiar. My body freezes as they suddenly start to swirl and combine into a bright green color. Then its midnight feathers began to pluck off one by one, covering the ground with a field of black dust surrounding the purple berries. My arms start to prick with a searing pain. When I glance down, the skin of my forearm is peeling away, showing the new layer of pink flesh underneath. I touch it, and an agonizing burning tingles everywhere, shooting up though my hand and though my entire body, leaving through my toes. My body is peeling, exposing a fresh layer of skin. Layer by layer, I am becoming more vulnerable.

Once all the Jabberjay's feathers have molted off, new golden feathers start to gorge their way out of the bird's baby blue skin. My throat burns, as do my nostrils. Just inhaling the smell of the Nightlock seems to be killing me. What is going on? I look around again to find the only person that can save me, the only one by my side.

"Roan!" I shriek so loud it makes the bird shudder. "Roan, help me!"

The bird seems to glare at me. "No one can hear you…" It pauses to look straight at me. Straight into me, rather.

The last word forms on its tongue too smoothly when it says "Princess."

I feel a streak of terror inside me. Only one person has ever called me princess. Only one person was outgoing enough to call me by a nickname he knew I despised. Flint.I do not know where this bird heard this. Jabberjays only repeat things they've heard people say. Why would Flint say I was going to die, and death was good? He wouldn't wish that upon me, would he? I gulp down any fear that may be surfacing and look it unsteadily in the eye. A glisten of sunlight dapples its sleek feathers, and for a split second I can see Flint. His eyes, his skin, his bleach blonde hair. What is going on? This bird resembles him in every way.

"Roan!" I shout again.

The bird shakes its head and snickers at me the way Flint does. Like he pities me. And then, in one sudden movement, the bird explodes into a ball of floating golden sparkles. I close my eyes and cringe away from the sight, but at least its talons were no longer stabbing into my toes. When I open my eyes, however, I am greeted by a sight I did not expect. In front of me stands Flint, in the flesh. With the same smile on his lips. This smile, however, was a greedy smile, a smile that could be better described as a bloodthirsty smile. His thick arms lay still, extended in front of him. His legs are parted about shoulder length apart. Holding him steady, I follow his outstretched arms and connect with the object in his hands. It's long and black, with a handle and a loophole where his tan finger gently lies. Its barrel is pointed at me, straight at my head. A gun. I didn't even know Flint Odair knew how to use a gun. My breaths stop as I sternly watch him. Unwilling to move, unwilling to speak. So he does for me.

"Do you feel that pain…Artemis?" His words are dark, unnatural.

I still feel the lingering burning over my body, as if I'm on fire. I wince as I try to shake my head no. But once I do, I find that chunks of my long blonde hair spill from my skull. I almost gasp as I take some in my fingers.

"Isn't one of your fears being burnt alive, Art?" He says. "Well? How does it feel?"

I can't respond. My throat is ablaze. I try to swallow, but the saliva gets stuck halfway and I begin to choke. Flint watches me calmly. He bends down with the gun still pointed at me. He rests his elbows on his knees, which are sheathed in cream color jeans. As they were when he entered the arena.

"I thought you were my friend." I wheeze.

A puff of air escapes him and he looks down at the berries covering me. He doesn't answer. He picks up a berry and examines it between his fingers.

"If I shoot these at you…" He pauses to look up at me. "You think you'll disintergrate?"

I blink at him now. Was he really serious?

"Flint? What's wrong with you?"

He inches closer to me and outstretches a hand. I impulsively recoil, pressing my head into the tree behind me. A thumb brushes my cheek as the rest of his long fingers brush onto the side of my head. My body shakes, from the pain, and from the spark that forms when he makes contact with me. His other hand still clenches the gun. He presses it to my stomach with force. I close my eyes as he continues inching closer. Once his lips brush my cheek he whispers, his lips sliding over my exposed skin as he does.

"What's wrong with me? You're the one having a dream about your enemy." He simply says.

He removes his hand from me and is instantly on his feet. He points the gun at me again.

"Smile, Arty! You're on camera." These are his last words as he takes the gun and pushes it between my eyebrows.

I gulp and look up at him, hatred no doubt clouding my eyes. He still smiles as he pulls the trigger and the bullet slices into my brain.


	9. Chapter 9

**(A/N): Hello again! Its been FOREVER since I updated this story so I decided to update for my lovely followers! Thanks for everything and sticking with me! Have a great day!**

Chapter 9

When I awake from my nightmare, my nose is tickled by the ferns beneath me. They brush my ashen cheeks and pale lips. My fists are clenched into balls beside me. They are stricken white and shaking. Something brushes over my eyelashes and I wipe it away quickly. Crying wasn't like me. When I was younger, I only cried when I was hungry or tired. I was the only Mellark child that never cried. That's one thing my mom loved about me. I was quiet and kept to myself, like her. But now I can't control it. The tears come so naturally that it almost scares me. As my eyes scan my surroundings, I find I don't recognize anything around me.

I'm in a clear field of ferns. The nearest trees lay about fifteen feet away. My body feels strong, and I lift myself up without any pain. My eyes shift over to my shoulder and I find it has been healed and covered with a bandage. Then, two familiar smells fill my nose. One is surrounding me. The other is lingering in the air above me. I look down and find my shirt has been removed and a light brown cotton tee-shirt covers me. Not mine though. It's too large to be mine. I bring the fabric to my nose and inhale the smell of Roan. A lemon and pine needle smell. Soothing. Reminds me of him, how strong he is. It almost seems I'm wrapped in him. This brings a grin to my lips.

My ears have ceased throbbing and I can hear clearly now. A rushing brook lay behind me, its clear water rushes over the mossy rocks rapidly. I find my tee-shirt and jacket on a gray bolder next to the brook. They dry in the afternoon sun. My nose pricks with a lush smell again and my eyes migrate over to my left. A pot is simmering over a small fire. Emanating with a sweet and sour smell. Apples!

I jump to my feet and meander over to the pot. I lift the heavy black lid and peer inside. Applesauce is well blended and bubbling inside. I push a finger inside, scoop out a bit, and shove it into my watering mouth. It slithered around my tongue and down my mouth so swiftly. My body almost forgot what apples tasted like. I'm happy to remember.

I look around now for Roan. I knew he had to be around here. This pot hasn't been sitting long.

A _snap _beside me makes me jump about a mile into the air. My heart pounds in worry as my eye catches the sound. A rope holds a rabbit by the leg upside down. It hangs from a low tree limb. I watch it as it thrashes around and tries to escape, worry in its tiny eyes. But I knew it couldn't escape. This was one of Roan's snares. And by no means was any animal able to break from its hold.

When Roan was trying to impress the Gamemakers he used his snares to do just so. Seneca Crane's brother, Rayden Crane, was the head Gamemaker this year. Which nettled us to no end. Roan strong up a bunch of dummy's by the neck in a matter of minutes.

Which awed and amazed the Gamemakers. They gave him a nine score the fallowing day.

I wasn't so lucky and got a six. I tried, as my mother did, to shoot at some targets with my arrow. But that didn't seem to impress them a bit. So I went for an attempt to throw knives, but that didn't amaze them either.

With Rayden shaking his head he shouted, "Aren't you going to shoot at us like your mother did?"

I knew he was being smart, but this annoyed me.

I glared at him and grumbled. "Only if I have to. But this time I won't miss any of you!"

He started laughing, a doubtful laugh. So I did as I said. And chucked the knife at him. It sliced though his palm and pined his hand to the nearby wall.

"Don't ever talk about my mom like what she did was wrong! She saved every one of your good for nothing butts."

With only his screams filling the air and people shifting around him help him, I left the room. Without decency to even bow as my mother did.

Roan pushes through some bushes and walks to the rabbit. With one quick movement he sliced through the rabbits throat and it went limp. He looked past the rabbit and found me still standing over the pot.

"Well good morning. I'm glad to see you up." His words are warm, like the apples.

I smile at him and look down. His scent still fills me, and I blush.

"How did you heal my shoulder?"

He walks to me and rests the rabbit at my feet. "I found some healing balm after the tornado. It must of thrown a lot of things. Because the Careers camp is ruined. And I found the balm about a yard from here. I also found most of our stuff. Including the apples." He tells me.

I rest my hand on my shoulder and smile at him. "Well, thanks."

He nods. "No problem Arty. You've been out for two days. I've been feeding you applesauce and water since you blacked out." He says. "How are you feeling?"

I walk to the tree with the snare and begin to hang the bunny back up so it can bleed out.

"I feel good. Thanks to you. You're a great friend." I say.

He sits in the ferns and watches me do my work. "I missed you since you've been gone," He whispers.

My eyes stay on the rabbit I stop. I want to ask him why. Why did you possibly miss _me_? But he would just smile and ignore me. So I change the subject.

"How is your leg? Since Ridly cut it?" I continue skinning.

"Oh," He snickers. He examines his leg, which is extended in the ferns below. "It's fine. It wasn't deep, so it healed pretty quickly."

There was a silence between us, my throat tightened. I wanted to say something, anything! But it seemed that the only thing filling my every thought…was Flint. He lay behind my sight, blurring it. He seemed to move my fingers and cause my breaths to be unsteady.

"Has anyone died since I've been out?" I ask quickly. I finish and sit next to him.

He sighs and I feel the breath brush onto my arm. "Only two people. Lee from Three, and Beth from Two."

"How many people are still alive?"

He shrugs. "Well, there's you and I. Grove and Isis from One. Ezra from Ten. Terra and Blaze from Nine. Fawn and Adriel from Seven. Gray from Five. Lev and Owen from Three. Sterling and Heath from Two…" He pauses to pull his lips together. He does this when he thinks. "Oh, and Flint." He adds.

My heart beats franticly when he says his name.

My hands shake and I nod. "So that makes…fifteen."

"Thirteen to many," He silently mutters.

I raise an eyebrow at him and he stands with no words. Hours later the rabbit is bleed out and now can be skinned and cooked. Roan handled all that so I walk to the brook and take a quick bath. I scrub my body with my fingernails. Taking all the brown goo off my limbs. Once that's done I grab my shirt and pull Roan's from me. It did hurt knowing I had to take it off, but I needed my clothes back. I gently pull the green tee-shirt over my head, careful not to strain my shoulder. Then I slide on my jacket and march back to the open fire.

It amazed me how intent Roan was when he cooked. He never let anything intrude on his quiet time. His brow furrows and he watches like something exciting is going to happen. We all know boiling water is _so_ exhilarating to watch. Everyone in Twelve loved his cooking, mostly his meatloaf. It was tender and soft, like my dads turkey legs.

I pat Roan on the shoulder and bring him from his haze. "You go rinse off, I'll watch the supper." He looks hesitant, but he leaves minutes later. Trusting me with his perfection.

_Yay me! _

I try to make it that I don't watch Roan as he bathes. But my eyes linger. His tan skin is covered with tiny brown freckles, mostly on his upper arm and back. Which I can now see clearly with him shirtless. He throws handfuls of water over his short caramel hair, the drops glisten in the evenings pink light. I divert my eyes from him and examine our goods.

Laying in front of me is our supply. A frying pan, which we're using to cook the rabbit in right now. A pair of scissors, a flask, about five more apples, and a bushel of potatoes. A cup from my pack, knife, blanket, arrows, quiver, two jackets, eight of my fathers cookies, a inch of healing balm - most was used on my wound-, and my canteen. I'm satisfied with the amount. Combine, we had enough to help us survive.

Roan walks back to me, only his pants on. I try not to look as he stands ahead of me and flips the rabbit. His body is still damp from the rinse down. The muscles in his back and sides ripple as he sways. Pronounced. As I gawk, I am unaware that he is watching me. When our eyes meet, I blush a bright crimson color and throw my head away. He laughs, shaking his head. Is he mad? Does he hate me now?

"It's okay Wren. You can look at me if you want." He softly says. "Because I kind of looked at you sometimes."

These words burned in the air, and sent fire down my body. My arms pricked with goose bumps. Almost welts. My ears begin drumming again, my heart skipped. I can't speak with the wad of my heart in my throat. I just stare at him, his melting brown eyes. I had nothing to say, and neither did he. He clears his throat and pulls his eyes from mine. I don't think I've ever seen him speechless, or blush. But they both combine today, and this makes me ache.

He finishes the rabbits meat and hands me a leg. I sit on a tree stump and nibble on my meat, my legs crossed like a dainty girl. My cheeks still burn but they are simmering down now. How can I look so weak in front of him. Why did he do this to me?

It's midnight and no cannons have fired yet. I don't know if I should feel relief or worried. Probably worried. We are fighting for out lives after all. The night air is cold, too cold for what the weather was like just this afternoon. About seventy. Now it's a low fifty. I can see my breaths as they secrete from my mouth. I feel my arms shiver and my body ache. I have on my jacket I stole from the fired hair girl I killed. But it doesn't do much. I'm already frozen from the inside. The fire has blew out from the gusts of wind we have been getting. These make me worry too. I never know when there'll be another tornado. Roan hasn't spoken to me since the last words he said. I wish he would. I know that isn't helping my body feel any more warm. It isn't us not to talk to each other. I miss it.

A gush of air from behind me presses my hood to the back of my skull. I hold my knees close to my chest and breath in easy breaths. It'll be morning soon!

Roan eyes me from his sitting spot across from me. I don't know if I should look away or not so I keep his gaze. For a second we just watch each other.

Watch as we breath in harmony, our breaths a white smoke tunneling from us. We both shiver and long for warmth. He quickly stands and grabs the blanket from the pile in the far right corner of our camp. I don't understand why I didn't pick that up before, my mind was maybe to clouded by the thought of Roan maybe liking me. He walks to me now and swiftly throws the blanket over me. He turns without another word but I speak up, my throat tingling as I do.

"You can share the blanket with me…" My cheeks become warm now. "If you want."

He stops walking and stands in place, his back towards me. I hope he doesn't think I'm trying to get at him. Or anything like that. I just want warmth. He has to understand that. He finally turns to face me and readily sits beside me. No hesitation. Which I like. He pulls the blanket over us and rests his back on the tree behind us.

He turns his head and smiles. "Thanks." He says.

I nod and it becomes quiet again.

"Hey listen…I didn't mean what I said earlier. I mean I did…but I didn't mean for it to turn out like this between us." He stutters, I'm not sure if that's from the cold or being nervous.

I swallow. "It's fine Roan. Can we sleep now?" My words sound harsh. I didn't mean them to be.

An hour later I feel his breaths steady, meaning he was in a deep sleep. My right arm burns now, from the linger of his skin. His leg lay atop mine, warming it as well. I want to tell him. About my nightmare. About Flint. How he takes over my every thought. But than I find that wouldn't be wise. If Roan _does_ like me than that might make him jealous. I don't know. I've never really had anyone like me before. This is hard. I sigh and rest my head in his shoulder. I still feel safe with him. But I find myself wanting more. I want to feel the danger I always felt when I was at home in the woods. Or outside playing with our new cat Periwinkle. I want a lot of things it seems. But mostly what I want is to be right here, with Roan. Right as we are. This thought makes me smile. And without another thing crossing my mind. Good or bad. I close my eyes and fall asleep with him right beside me. As I feel it should me.


End file.
